AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I told him no, and he acted like he believed me. I hadn’t felt like I was being obvious, but I guess when you’ve known someone for most of your life you’re at risk of being an open book to them. If only it were vice versa. If only I could readhersignals. I have no idea what she’s thinking. All I know is that she’s out there, doing God knows what, and I’m in here at my cramped desk, which barely fits between the window and the bed, thinking about how she tastes.
She made it very clear there can be nothing between us, so I need to put that out of my head. Reset, like I told her I would. But something about her keeps pulling me back in. Earlier, when I left to use the bathroom, she was sitting in my chair, her legs propped up, staring out the window while she listened toThe Murderer Next Door.
I should have been agitated to see her in my chair, especially since she was eating a damn chocolate bar in it, but Ilikedthat she was making herself comfortable. Liked it even more that she was listening to something I’d recommended. I made her some tea since I was making some for myself, and the smile she gave me has stuck with me all afternoon, popping up between lines of code.
It’s late now, and I skipped lunch without meaning to.
Shit, should I have offered to make her something? I got used to making food when Burke was around, same as I did when Ruthie was a kid, but he moved out over a week before Mira moved in. I’ve gotten used to a new routine, and routines help me stay regulated.
I slide my earphones down to my chest, still debating whether I should make dinner, when I hear her calling out, “Danny!”
My heart starts racing. Fuck, how long has she been calling me? Is something wrong? What if she’s bleeding out on the floor out there?
I throw the earphones onto my desk and race out into the living room. No sign of her. Adrenaline floods me as I search the kitchen area for her and find nothing.
“Danny?” she calls again, and I realize she’s in the bathroom.
I barge through the door and realize several things simultaneously.
One, she’s completely naked.
Two, she’s in the bathtub.
Three, there’s a plastic bag taped around her cast.
It’s obvious she was able to climb in and even bathe on her own, only to realize she had no way out without either getting her leg wet or putting pressure on it.
“Danny!” she shouts.
Because I’ve frozen in the doorway, my eyes taking her in.
“Oh shit,” I glance at the wall, trying to count the tiles. Anything to stop myself from thinking of the sight of her in that tub, the water kissing her pink nipples and showing me everything I’ve been fantasizing about all day. My dick went from terrified to hard in an instant. “Uh, I’m guessing you need help getting out.”
“Yeah,” she says. “I didn’t really think this through. I should have let Delia help.”
I laugh, still trying to count those tiles. Twenty. Twenty-two. “I’m surprised she didn’t insist on coming over after the elevator incident.”
“She did,” she says, probably giving me a strange look. I’d know if I weren’t looking anywhere else. “She was here for a couple of hours earlier. I updated her about the whole elevator shebang over text, but apparently that wasn’t enough. You didn’t notice?”
“I had my earphones on.” Thirty-five. Thirty-six. “They’re noise cancelling, and I get…” How to explain this. “I get in the zone when I’m working on a problem. Sometimes it’s hard to notice anything else, or at least it takes a lot. Shit. I’m sorry. What should we do? Maybe you can start by draining the water?”
“That’s a good idea,” she says. I hear some splashing and then the water starts to drain, a sound I’ve never liked.
“How about I put a towel over you, and I can lift you out?” I say, my blood beating uncomfortably through my veins, both because I’m terrified I’ll hurt her, and because I’m about to hold her naked body with nothing but a towel between us. This isn’t the reset I needed, that’s for damn sure.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice thick. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
I walk in, my eyes still on those tiles—fifty-one, fifty-two—and close the door so I can grab the fluffy guest towel I keep hanging there.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “It’s the guest towel. I haven’t used it.”
“I’m not thinking about the cleanliness of the towel right now, Danny.”
Neither am I, damn it.
“Has all of the water drained?”
“Yes,” she says, sounding breathy and nervous.
